Angel in the Snow
He heard a static, buzzing sound, a low hum in the distance.
Dark clouds enveloped the air thick with fog.
Dust drifted from the barren rock under foot.
Grey green skies, clouds of ash above, cracked dead earth below.
Squall looked around.
...What is this place?
The horizon stretched on, an endless barren desert, free of any recognizable form, shape or depth. The sky rippled, blanketed in the treacherous tides of time. The air was thick, it was hard to breathe. He tasted metal and acid.
Squall blinked, his eyes stinging.
There's nothing…
His breath sat heavy in his chest.
No one.
...I'm alone...
He decided to walk, with no particular direction to follow. Action was the key to survival, and he had very little options. The soles of his feet ached and his arms were sore from battle, but he knew he had to carry on.
One step after the other...
He could not recall how much time had past the next time he realized himself. Squall stumbled.
Awake.
Behind him, the dusty skies loomed heavily as far as he could see. The air was now thin, reminding him of climbing the tall mountains of Centra. But a question remained unanswered.
…How far have I gone?
The ache that stretched down his legs and the weight of his eyelids suggested he'd been walking for a decent distance. He shifted the gear on his hips, the extra weight evident. The gunblade that always remained at his side now hung heavily on his hip.
How long has it been?
He had no way of judging how far he'd gone. The horizon was as far off in the distance as it had always been. Grey fog, corpse grey earth, and always the quiet crackling in the air.
Just keep moving...
He awoke again. His steps were heavy, his breath shallow and slow.
Awake.
Squall looked ahead - and there, a few meters before him, was the end of the precipice. Like a drink of water quinching his thirst, the sight was a tantalizing prospect. He closed his eyes, and breathed in with delight. He opened his eyes, determined.
I'm going to make it…
The relief of finally being free of this place grew closer. It didn't matter how long it had been. He was glad to see it. In a place of nothingness, his only hope rested before him.
I'm going home...
His steps were heavy by the time he reached the edge. Every move took substantial effort, but he refused to give up.
Squall came upon the edge with a deep breath out. He looked down at his boots.
Where the ground ceased, emptiness began.
He looked up. Nothing but thick, grey fog.
...Nothing...
Squall turned to look back at the land he'd crossed. More dead earth, covered in a dark haze.
Nothing...
He looked ahead again.
…
Nothing...
He realized his desolation, the grip on his heart sudden and intense. He drew in air.
I'm alone…
There's nothing...
Squall allowed himself to collapse under the weight of his exhaustion.
His head hung low, his face defeated, as his bangs dropped to cover his face.
His shoulders drooped, and his body caved inward from exhaustion.
He allowed himself a few breaths.
His mouth was dry, his body ached with soreness, and his blood thinned with thirst.
Am I... Stuck here?
He closed his eyes.
...Will I die here…?
Rinoa ran.
Above her, storm clouds threatened to erupt.
She continued into the field, darting her eyes across the landscape.
She slowed to a stop in the middle of the field. She looked around again, still unable to find him.
She shivered.
He promised to be here...
…
It's been too long... Something is wrong.
Rinoa clutched the rings on her chest for comfort.
Squall...
She looked up into the sky.
I will find you.
A white feather drifted toward him, rocking back and forth with the wind.
He was surprised to find something else that existed here, and wondered if it was an illusion.
Squall watched the feather.
Where did you come from...?
The feather lightly descended into the palm of his hand.
He closed his fingers around it.
Squall opened his eyes to find a place he recognized. For a moment, his reality was as it has always been. He took it in. Tall grass, flowers with warm tones, the setting sun enveloping him.
The field by the orphanage...
And she was there, standing in front of him.
The sight of her warmed his heart.
Rinoa…
Her back was turned. She did not turn to face him. Squall swallowed the dry lump in his throat.
"Rinoa?" he called.
He waited.
Is this a dream? His throat tightened.
She did not turn.
"Rinoa!" he called again.
...Please turn around...
The relief was instant as she turned to face him. Longing desperately to see the curve of her smile, the depth of her dark eyes, but like an image rippling through water, the lines of her face were washed away.
Her image was scarred, blurred.
Rinoa…
Squall fought to regain his grip on reality, captured by the images before him. He knew Rinoa was the key, and he fought to remember her clearly. As he watched the recent events of his life replay, he tried to find her. Her image was alive in his consciousness, but remained incomplete. Her face was out of focus. She seemed close enough to touch, but if he reached out she slipped away. The gaps in his memories made his thoughts disjointed, and he saw each one of them.
Seifer, Selphie, Quistis, Zell...
His life was a movie, nothing real. His friends were characters on a stage.
He saw her again. …Rinoa...
Had they never been real? A clever portrayal of his own mind? Perhaps a fantasy for his mind to entertain.
The truth is…
I've always been alone...
He could not place what was real, nor rely on his memories or recollections.
...Maybe I'm the one who doesn't exist... A ghost...
He tried to remember Rinoa, the one he'd promise to meet to get back to the place he belonged.
Home...
A distant memory.
...Why can't I find Rinoa?
He was a ghost. He wasn't there for her. And so oxygen depleted, drifting in endless darkness, her helmet shattered, Rinoa had died in the depths of space, freeing the world of her horrible existence. Dead, frozen, she would float through the darkness, alone, forever.
...Just like me.
In the end, her loss was greater to him than his own. He shed a single tear, and dissipated into the light.
Dust scattered as she took another step. Her mouth was dry, eyelids heavy. She closed her eyes, but did not slow her pace. The tips of her hair swept over her shoulders. She looked into the gray abyss and sighed.
...Where am I?
Within Rinoa was the ability to create gateways, portals. She had done so with merely his image in her head, unsure of the destination. She had taken a breath, and bravely stepped into this place.
The rings hanging from her necklace bounced against her chest. Her arms swung back and forth, dangling helplessly at her sides. She fought the urge to stop.
I brought myself here...
She clutched the rings in her hand.
I can do this...
Rinoa saw something in the distance behind the thick fog. Her heart thumped deep in her chest and she increased her pace. Using small steps, she came closer.
…A body?
Her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
It has to be him...
She paused for a moment, then approached.
It took her a moment to accept that she was looking down at Squall.
...Is this a dream...?
Rinoa fell to her knees beside him. She reached her hand out to touch his shoulder. Her fingers tightened around him.
…
It's him...
He remained still.
He's... Cold...
Her throat tightened, panic swelling her pulse.
She cradled him in her arms.
Squall looked peaceful, and she thought it was beautiful. She caressed his face, her heart aching. She brushed his hair away from his face. Her touch did nothing to wake him.
Tears built in her eyes.
"Squall," she whispered.
He's dead, she admitted with a sharp ache in her heart.
The tears spilled onto her cheeks.
"Squall, please, open your eyes," she pleaded weakly. She watched him as her plea went unanswered.
Grief poured from her as she brought him closer. She tightened her grip around him.
"I can't," she said, "I can't fight without you. I can't fight it alone…"
She sobbed into his chest.
I want us to go home...
The orphanage… Where we said we'd meet...
The wind blew past, its strength startling her. She looked up, and into her heart came a powerful but familiar force. It surrounded them, and they were transported. The muddy skies were pushed away to make way for the light inside a deep blue. The light poured down on them.
Planes of grass and flowers sprouted around her, petals were caught and uplifted into the wind that carried the storm clouds away.
The portal had opened.
The field… By the orphanage…
She looked back down at Squall and lightly touched his face again.
Rinoa smiled. I brought us home...
Slowly, he stirred. It was faint, but she noticed it. She blinked, checking her vision.
Her eyes widened as his eyes slowly opened. He blinked a few times, squinting under the light.
He was conscious. Rinoa gasped.
You're alive...?!
The haze lifted, and his eyes adjusted to the light. He was surprised to find Rinoa, and that she was holding him in her arms. He suddenly was very aware of her proximity.
They watched one another for a while.
"…Rinoa?" he asked.
Her face was clear. Is it really you...?
He felt rather stupid after that, regaining some of his senses. Of course it was her. But oh, how he ached for her to be real.
"Squall!" she squealed at the sound of her name, and pulled him closer to her.
"You're okay!"
She took a breath. "I thought…"
She shook her head, and gave him a slow, quiet smile that sent a chill down his spine. "You're okay..."
Squall sat up, and Rinoa quickly released him from her grip, as if she had also realized it was the third time that the two of them had been so close.
Squall placed a hand on his forehead. I don't feel okay…
"Yes," he responded. "I'm okay..."
He looked at her.
But you're here. You're alive. We're in the field by the orphanage...
He turned to face her. They watched each other again, and she smiled as she waited for him to speak. Squall reached out, hesitated for a moment, then lightly touched her arm.
"You're here," he said. "..You found me..."
Rinoa's smile grew wider, and she nodded. She stiffened a bit in surprise when his gloved hand ran across her face.
He removed his hand and looked around again.
"...We made it back?" he asked.
"We made it back," Rinoa said, and gently took his hand.
He looked at their hands together, and he smiled at her.
I want to believe it so badly...
A long moment passed between them. Their gaze into each other's eyes grew long. Rinoa, in her nervousness, perked back up.
"Squall," she said, "…I'm so glad you're okay... I, I thought you were done for…"
"Never," he assured her. She smiled at him again.
Squall released a heavy sigh and leaned back onto the soft cushion of the grass. Flowers engulfed him, and he didn't mind. Rinoa did the same, keeping herself close to him, enough that their arms and fingers touched. They stayed there a while, sharing the unspoken exhaustion.
After some time, Squall spoke.
"I'm glad you're okay, too," he told her.
He looked over at her, and in his eyes, she knew that he meant it.
Rinoa grazed her fingers over his, unable to hide her smile or satisfaction with his words. She had long felt a deep devotion towards him, and was tirelessly excited at his return of affection. Her heart raced as she thought of her many rescues, the fight with Ultimecia, the many times Squall had dedicated himself to protecting her. She reminisced in the feeling of being in his arms.
Ultimecia had crumbled into herself as she was defeated, and through their journey, a love for each other had been planted, and was beginning to bloom.
"Squall," Rinoa said. "We did it."
She smiled over at him as he met her eyes. "We fought together until the very end," she continued, "and we won."
Squall nodded. "We did it," he agreed.
They grasped each other's hands. Comforted by the other's presence, they fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.